


First

by Puffie



Category: Mobile Legends: Bang Bang (Video Game)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood to Adulthood, First Kiss, M/M, Romance, semi canon compliant, tw:alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29728026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puffie/pseuds/Puffie
Summary: In a lot of ways, Ling was Zilong's first.
Relationships: Ling/Zilong (Mobile Legends: Bang Bang)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

In a lot of ways, Ling was Zilong’s first.

Zilong vaguely remembered the first time he stepped inside the Dragon’s Altar, but he remembered the itch of his scalp under his tangled hair, muddy clothes, and the painful hunger in his stomach. In front of the Great Dragon, he curled down the ground and sobbed, with wet eyes and a runny nose he cried for his mother and father, wanting to go home. He kicked and screamed until all his strength was spent, and what was left for him to do was to cry himself to sleep.

“I’m sorry little one, we tried everything we could. But we still cannot find your parents.” The Great Dragon said, but it meant nothing to the child. The only comfort from the pain was the days that passed by and the hot meals that the monks prepared. Somehow, the gardens in the Altar gave him peace - so much green compared to the barren lands he recalled.

He was lost but then he found Ling.

“Hello,” Zilong walked up to the other child one morning. Silver-haired a little shorter than him, the boy was close to the koi ponds, playing with a wooden sword. It was nice to find someone else close to his age. The adults were kind, especially Baxia and Yu Zhong, but they’re no fun. “My name is Zilong, what’s your name?”

The other boy frowned and stopped his swings. “Ling.”

Zilong grinned at Ling and paused, remembering what his mother taught. He bowed down slightly as a sign of respect. “Nice to meet you, Ling!” The other boy just nodded in acknowledgment, not smiling. “What are you playing?”

“I’m not playing, I’m training.” Ling wrinkled his nose. He moved his sword in circles, standing on one foot, graceful like a dancer. Then he jumped and flipped into the air. When he landed, he raised his chin to Zilong. “I can already do what the grownups do. How about you?”

It was simply the most amazing thing Zilong had seen and he could feel the heat build inside him, heart pumping fast. Near a pillar rested a bamboo stick with a net, meant for cleaning the koi pond. Zilong picked up the stick and swung it wildly up and down, left and right, and twirled it as fast as he could. “I can’t do that, but I can do this! Ha!”

“That move is so ugly.”

“No, it’s the secret technique used by the heroine, Hua Mulan, to defend Cadia Riverlands from demons from a distant land. I call it Super Heavenly Spear!” Zilong thrust the stick up to the air, his mind filled with imaginations of great wars and strong warriors clad in majestic armor. “So Ling, what’s the name of your technique?”

“It doesn’t have-” Ling stammered, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks red. “It’s called Forbidden... Crane Blade!” He shouted back, pointing his sword to Zilong as a challenge.

“Let’s duel, Ling!

It was the first fight of Zilong’s childhood, and he remembered laughing even if Ling’s weapon hit his arms, legs, and his back. Zilong couldn’t land a single strike, every one of his attempts was either dodged or parried by the other boy. Even if Ling was smaller, he was just too fast and Zilong was unable to see his moves. One final blow to the back of Zilong’s leg caused him to stumble on the ground face first.

“I won Zilong, you’re not good enough to defeat me.”

Zilong rolled and wiped the dirt on his mouth and nose. Ling stood above him, a cocky grin appearing on his lips. Despite the loss, Zilong grinned back to the boy above, energy still flowing through his veins as he lay down.“That was fun! Let’s play again later. Do you live here?”

“You’re so weird. Of course, I live here.” Ling raised an eyebrow and pointed at the dormitory. Oh. Same place? Zilong didn’t realize they stayed under the same roof. It would make things simpler and he could go and visit Ling’s room if he wanted.

Zilong sat up, chest still heaving in exhaustion. To his delight, Ling extended a hand and offered to help him stand up. “Hey Ling, do your parents allow you to leave this place?”

“Parents? Like the Great Dragon?”

“Don’t you have a mom?” Zilong’s head tilted slightly.

“No, I don’t. I’ve never seen a woman. Ever.”

Zilong hummed. Ling was the one who was weird. Putting all the questions aside, Zilong wrapped his arm on Ling’s shoulder and tugged him close. Ling narrowed his eyes and his pale cheeks seemed redder. “When my father comes to fetch me, I’ll ask if you could go with us. We can play at my house, you know? I have a box of toys I left there.” Zilong smiled - he gave Ling a tempting offer who just looked at him quizzically. Nonetheless, he made his first friend on the Altar and he couldn’t wait to tell his mother about him.

* * *

When they were fourteen years old, the Great Dragon had come to decide who will be his successor. Seven years of training had come to this moment, for the apprentices to give it all and do the best of their abilities. Zilong thought of his mother and father - what would they have thought if they’re here to witness this moment?

He will make them proud, Zilong told himself as he brandished his spear, his choice of weapon. Ling was with his sword, now a real blade, but it’s just like when they first played years ago. Ling was simply the best among all other apprentices. Zilong had never truly beaten him except in instances where Ling was handicapped or practicing new and unreliable techniques.

No matter what happens, Zilong was happy and he smiled at Ling. True success was not to win the duel but to win against the fear and doubt in one’s heart, to surpass one’s perceived limitations. Of all the people who will aid him in this journey of self-discovery, he would face Ling, his first friend and also rival. If he would lose, he would be honored that he will be the one to defeat him.

They bowed to each other and with a signal from the Great Dragon, engaged in a long-awaited duel where no one would hold back. Zilong couldn’t help but admire Ling as they fought. Even if they had trained together for years, Ling’s speed and precision still surprised him as if they had never exchanged blades before. There was power in every blow - ruthless and determined, brimming with ambition. Zilong struggled and prolonged the fight as much as he can, giving everything.

“Yield, Zilong,” Ling said after they broke away from each other. “You’re bleeding. I don’t want to hurt you any further.”

There were no limits, Zilong told himself. Even if there were cuts on his arms he wanted to give it all. He looked at the Great Dragon who was observing their match. Clearly, the master had already picked a winner and it was obviously Ling. Zilong stood picked up all the strength left and raised his spear. Seven years and it came to this. “No. I’m not done yet! Ling, you’re the best warrior in the land and that’s why I will fight you with all I have. I will not find anyone else in the world worthier as a foe than you.” He grinned at Ling, heart beating faster after saying all his words of admiration.

Ling’s eyes widened. His mouth was partly opened but he didn’t speak as he unleashed a flurry of attacks that made Zilong stumble. Ling had always been more composed, poised, and perfect - but in that instant, he lost control, delivering powerful attacks and breathing hard, grunting with each swing. One final blow and Ling sent Zilong’s weapon flying into the air.

Zilong was thrown back and ended up lying on the ground on his side, hands bleeding and blood dripping to the ground. He looked at his hand in panic, sighing in relief as he realized both sets of fingers were complete. The bleeding was coming from his right forearm from a wound deeper than skin. Slowly, he sat up and stared at Ling who looked at him with a shocked expression, hands shaking as evidenced by his trembling blade.

“The fight is over!” The Great Dragon’s voice boomed in the air and both boys looked at their master in anticipation. “Both of you have fought well and exceeded expectations. However…”

What followed was a blur. Ling looked devastated and furious, storming off and throwing his sword into the ground before spitting on it. The words from the master echoed in Zilong’s ears - he was going to be the successor and not Ling. However, he set it aside and called out to his friend who was walking away fast. “Ling! Wait!”

Ling briefly turned his face to Zilong, eyes filled with pain. The only thing that came to Zilong’s mind was betrayal. The other boy turned back to his path and left without a word.

* * *

Ling didn’t return. He had taken his clothes and swords, leaving not a single note behind. The other apprentices, old and young, abandoned their training to search for Ling but he was gone like a passing wind from the Dragon’s Altar. The other monks asked Zilong, hoping that he of all people, would know something. Despite their persistence and suspicion, Zilong had nothing to hide.

“Where are you, Ling?” One night, Zilong sat by the koi pond, dazed and chest constricting. At first, he was in denial, believing Ling will come back. That his friend was only sulking, needing to cool his head somewhere. But several days had passed where Ling didn’t return to water the plants by his window. He’s truly gone, just like his parents years ago. Zilong bit his lip as his cheeks heat up, water pooling in his eyelids.

“Hey, you alright? You missed dinner again.” A deep voice called from behind. A large, warm hand gentle squeezed Zilong’s shoulder - he didn’t need to turn around to know it was Baxia. The older man was a giant, but his presence was never intimidating. Rather, with him, Zilong had always felt safe.

“Have they found Ling?” Zilong asked, still clinging to hope.

Baxia shook his head and sighed. “I’m sorry. He’s truly gone.”

Zilong took a deep breath to calm himself, holding back the tears. His chest hurt so much and he brought his hand to massage the area. He reflected back on the last moments before Ling left - how their master chose Zilong as the successor. Would Ling have stayed if he was proclaimed as the heir instead? But the Great Dragon’s words were absolute, even if Zilong felt he was inferior to Ling’s skills. That was perhaps the reason why Ling felt insulted, and Zilong needed to speak to him. “I need to find Ling. Maybe, I could reason with him.”

“Zilong, none of us have any idea where he’s gone to. Don’t abandon your training. Let the adults handle this.”

“But-” Zilong clenched his fist and gave Baxia a desperate look. His mind accepted the wisdom of Baxia, but his heart wanted to search for Ling, to ask his friend so many things. At least talk to him one more time. “Why didn’t he even said goodbye!” Zilong asked bitterly, as a tear spilled from his eye.

“Oh, Zilong…” Baxia looked at him with compassion and Zilong averted his eyes, ashamed of his display of weakness. The older man rubbed his back. “It’s alright, son. I understand what you feel. It’s painful to lose someone you shared your life with. Yu Zhong was like a brother to me.”

The name evoked anger from Zilong. Yu Zhong had attacked the master, turned against the man who raised him, and betrayed his kin. Ling wasn’t like that at all - he would never be Zilong’s enemy. He wouldn’t, right? A question that Zilong held within the past days surfaced from the back of his mind. “Baxia, do you think that Yu Zhong can still return?”

Baxia’s shoulders and back were hunched, and with a forlorn face, he shook his head. “Yu Zhong had already chosen a path that I cannot allow. I’m afraid if we meet again, we will have to fight.”

Zilong thought a lot about Baxia’s words. The older man did reassure him that Ling was very young and like Zilong, both of them could take so many paths they had yet to discover. But the future wasn’t the only thing that bothered Zilong - he thought of the past as well.

Was Ling a brother? Zilong never truly thought about it for so long. He had lived and trained with Ling and all of the other apprentices, whom Zilong called older brothers. Like Baxia. Even if he didn’t spend as much time with the female students, they were also his family, whom he will forever be loyal and protect with everything he had.

But Ling was special, more than a brother. Of all other apprentices, Zilong admired him the most. Ling was terrifyingly intelligent, honest, and filled with determination - yet despite the cold exterior, Ling was also caring in his own way, always wanting the best for Zilong even if he may sound harsh. He’s fiercely proud and protective of things he believed in.

When other apprentices matured and left, Zilong was sad but he accepted that it was the part of growing up. But with Ling gone, without saying goodbye, he just felt crushed and it was somewhat suffocating. At night, his thoughts wander and he reminisced about the happy times they spent training and talking about what they will do outside the Altar. They talked of what to do together, so many places to go to and adventures to take - and yet Ling just left.

What was he to Ling? Was he nothing to him that he could just leave like that? Zilong curled on his bed and rubbed his chest, not helping to ease the pain inside. He hated the loneliness, loss of appetite, and the emotions that wouldn’t just go away. Every part of the Altar had memories of Ling - the wooden swords, the walls that he liked to climb, and birds that he was fond of taking care of.

While the passing of time had helped Zilong heal, he was held back by so many questions and the lack of closure. He must walk forward, and to do so, he must accept the truth that Ling was his first heartbreak.

* * *

Zilong had always wondered all those years if Ling resented him. He had accepted that Ling would have changed. After all, they last saw each other when they were fourteen years old, and Zilong had also grown so much. When Zilong first heard about the assassin they called the Cyan Finch, graceful and swift, a young man that was rising in the ranks of the most feared criminals in the Cadia Riverlands, he knew that it could only be Ling.

There were no words when Ling returned to the altar but an exchange of blades. Just like when the last time they spent together. It’s going to resolve a conflict that has lasted for years. Would Ling cut him down to take revenge on the Great Dragon? Zilong wouldn’t let that happen. 

Since their last duel, Ling had only improved, much more than Zilong expected. But Zilong felt no fear or worry about impending death. Even if Ling’s skill and power had reached heights he could never attain, Zilong could see the same child years ago - filled with ambition but also lost without a good purpose in life. Every swing of Ling’s blade was perfect in form but also excessive in force. Zilong found himself smiling as they dueled hundreds of rounds, exhaustion filling his bones and his strength sapped. It was a worthy reunion. Running out of patience, Ling used a magnificent technique and Zilong answered with his own.

If he was to fall because of Ling’s hands, then so be it. Let his feelings for Ling not be of hate and bitterness. Seeing Ling after all these years, now already a grown man, made him happy. It was odd - when Ling left, Zilong went from denial to anger. He had fantasized about confronting Ling for abandoning him, to make his friend realize how much pain he caused, a reminder of losing his parents. He cried, screamed, and poured all the resentment in training. Then he mourned for what he lost. He grieved for a future that could have been. In the years that passed, he had made his peace, that perhaps, Ling didn’t care anymore. 

Even so, Zilong will always treasure him. Ling broke his heart but he still wanted to give his friend an unforgettable gift, a resolution to a duel that was denied years ago when the Great Dragon decided the winner. Staggered by Ling’s aerial attack, Zilong had only a split second to decide his defense. Ling gathered his strength and thrust his blade forward but instead of counter-attacking, Zilong chose to let go of his spear, trusting Ling. 

Ling suddenly withdrew his weapon, hands trembling, eyes locked on him. There was fear, confusion, and also just like years ago, he wouldn’t hurt Zilong further. The winner was decided without a death involved. 

“He has returned,” Ling warned after a long silence and left again. 

There was no need to chase after Ling because Zilong knew he would be back. 

\---------

Cadia Riverlands was forever changed when Yu Zhong recovered the Reverse Scale. The peace that Zilong knew was gone with people pledging their allegiance to a new leader, rebelling against the Great Dragon. But was the peace he knew truly genuine? He wondered if the conflict had been present all this time, that it was only masked by the beauty and serenity of the Dragon’s Altar, and that he had lived in blissful ignorance of the truth of the world. Maybe, he needed to gain more wisdom and grow so he could face Yu Zhong again.

Zilong’s body reached its limits in the long, exhausting battle against the Black Fierce Dragon. His ribs were broken, muscles bruised and he suffered wounds losing him a good amount of blood. He was forced to humble himself and accept defeat, and allow Baxia to carry his motionless body to safety. 

After a long sleep, Ling was the first person Zilong saw. His old friend sat on the floor by his bedside, slumped against the wall sleeping, a thin blanket wrapped around him - too little for the cold. At first, he wondered if this was a dream, something that he wished so badly that his mind created this fabrication. Zilong reached out below to touch Ling’s shoulder, waking up the young man. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” Zilong said weakly. It was dark outside, but it wasn’t clear to Zilong if it was the evening or before sunrise. 

Ling gave him an annoyed look and stood up quickly to leave the room. No voice came out of Zilong’s mouth as he tried to call out, but a hoarse whisper, until the other man returned with a jug of water. “Drink. You’ve been out for two days.” Ling said, sitting on the bed and helping Zilong sit up. 

“Thank you,” Zilong croaked. He quickly grabbed Ling’s arm as something crucial suddenly crossed his mind. "Chang'e! What happened-"

"Your sister is fine, Zilong. The others hid her to safety." Ling pointed to the flowers on the window sill. "She’s been visiting you."

Zilong rubbed his temple. The awful feeling in his stomach eased knowing Chang'e was alright. But there was also that girl who charged into battle with them. “ Wanwan, is she alright?”

“Yes, she is alright. She was not harmed by the Black Fierce Dragon. Her family came to pick her up.” 

Zilong relaxed and let go of Ling. “That’s good to hear.”

“You’re truly the biggest idiot I have known,” Ling said harshly with a cold glare. “What use are those years of training if you would just put yourself in that kind of situation? You should have known better.”

Memories of the battle flashed in Zilong’s mind. He charged on Yu Zhong hastily because Baxia was in danger. His actions were reckless, risky, and cost him a few broken bones, but it was worth it to save Baxia’s life. Yu Zhong suffered a wound from Zilong’s charge, slowing him down. While Zilong lay helpless, Yu Zhong could have dealt the final blow but stopped. The Black Fierce Dragon’s power grew uncontrollable to his detriment, and his mage Luo Yi aided his retreat to who knew where. 

“It was worth it,” Zilong said, smiling slightly. 

Ling slammed his hand on the mattress, eyes burning in anger. “Is everything a game to you? Those stories you like reading got inside your head. Do you want to be a hero like them? Fine, just scream and charge to your death.” He snapped his finger in front of Zilong’s face.

The words weren’t painful to Zilong, because everything Ling said was true. But he never regretted his actions, even if it could have resulted in something fatal. Ling cared after all. “Would you hate it if I die?”

He expected Ling to say something cruel, as it was always his style. Never admitting weaknesses, suppressing affection as much as he could. Ling wanted to be seen as objective, a pragmatic intellectual, but a lot of times, Zilong just rolled his eyes. 

“Everyone dies eventually, but it’s infuriating to waste years of labor on a stupid death,” Ling said, and Zilong just snorted. How predictable. “What’s so funny?”

It’s not wise to agitate Ling further. “I’m laughing at myself. Because it’s true, I was an idiot. I just realized it. Sorry, Ling.”

His friend saw through it, brows furrowed in annoyance before he softened. “Just… don’t get yourself killed,” Ling said, staring blankly to the wall. Even in the soft glow of the moonlight, Zilong could see the dark circles under Ling’s eyes. 

“Will you stay?” Zilong asked, breaching a topic that they had avoided all the time. 

“No, I’ll leave tomorrow.”

Zilong fiddled with the bandages wrapped around his arm. “Why wouldn’t you join us? With our combined strength, we could defeat the Black Fierce Dragon. I trust you more than anyone with my life.”

Ling sighed and looked back at him with a pained expression. “You may be an idiot, you’re going to win this war without my help, Zilong. You’re better off without me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m no longer the child you knew. You don’t know who I truly am now, and it’s better this way. For both of us.” Ling looked down and bit his lip. “Tomorrow, I will leave, and please, don’t follow me.” 

Will it be goodbye? Zilong wanted to ask, but after all these years, he had learned to accept that there will be no definite answer. He left it all behind - all the pain, the lack of closure, and the false hope that Ling would return and everything will be back to the way it was. It will never be the same again. Most importantly, Zilong stopped questioning his worth, wondering if he wasn’t important enough for Ling to stay in the Dragon’s Altar. 

Ling cared for him, but that will never be the reason for him to choose the same path. All the bitterness in Ling’s heart was his own to heal, in his terms. It’s futile for Zilong to preach, as Ling had made his choices, not for anyone but himself. “I won’t stop you or follow you, I promise that. But take a rest first, you have a long journey ahead.”

“Yes, I will. Thank you for understanding.” Ling said in a tone much kinder than it has been since they met again. 

“Join me,” Zilong tapped the empty spot beside him and smiled. The bed could hold two people, although both of them were quite smaller the last time they slept side by side. “We can still fit, and I could use a little more warmth.”

Ling wordlessly removed his slippers and slid under the sheets with Zilong. Their combined body heat trapped under the blanket was making things cozier. “Don’t snore. If you do, I’ll slap you awake.” 

“Noted. But Ling, please don’t fall off the bed.”

“You pushed me back then. You move a lot when you dream.” Ling turned to the other side, his back against Zilong. 

“I did? Then sorry.” Zilong laughed, remembering the simpler times - the summers where they swim in the rivers, the winters where they huddle with the rest of the other apprentices in one firelit room. Ling was home, and Zilong wished that his friend felt the same. In the morning, Ling would leave again, and perhaps this would be the last good memory they could share. 

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

  
Ling left a trail of bodies in Cadia Riverlands until it stopped.  
  
Zilong had never been keen about the dark, unseen world of assassins, only hearing little of the facts from others. Sects like the Scarlet Shadow, the Finch, and so many invisible, wealthy and powerful clans had engaged in secret battles among themselves that no one from the Dragon Altar wished to get involved with. With the Black Fierce Dragon gaining power, splitting their continent into two, the assassins were also embroiled in turmoil among themselves. Learning this, Zilong became worried about Ling. A year after they last met, news about Cyan Finch went silent.   
  
His connections were meager and mostly common folk eager for stories and gossip that would help them ease their anxieties about an impending full-scale war. Many of Zilong’s friends outside the Dragon’s Altar were people he saved from bandits, monsters, and tribal conflict. Normally, Zilong wouldn’t ask for anything in return, but in these desperate times, he needed information to check up on Ling.   
  
Ling’s last victim was a warlord near the western coasts. The peasants were grateful for their tyrant’s death, and it was easy for Zilong to glean some rumors. Known as the Son of the Dragon, and it would be too bothersome to announce his presence, and thus he needed to operate under an alias.   
  
“Silver-haired young man? There’s one near the mountains. He’s a scribe and his calligraphy is quite impressive.” An elder woman revealed the information to Zilong as he helped her carry buckets of water.   
  
“Thank you so much,” Zilong bowed in gratitude. The fact that the young man described had skills in calligraphy made it likely it was Ling, as very few in the land had a high degree of literacy.   
  
“Oh be careful. You might want to keep your distance.”  
  
“Huh?” Zilong stopped on his track and paused to listen.   
  
“He’s very sick and he warns everyone to stay away.”   


* * *

  
By the time Zilong reached the hut at the edge of the mountains, it was already dark. He had underestimated the amount of snow and the cold, slowing him significantly. Winter in the land had always been harsh, and to his luck, he wasn’t caught in a blizzard. Ahead of him, was a tiny hut belching smoke from its chimney. Outside the house, the snow went unshoveled and piled against the door.  
  
Zilong took a deep breath and knocked. “Good evening,” he stopped, wondering if he should reveal his name. If Ling was not inside, then he needed to conceal the real reason for his visit.   
  
“Come inside, Zilong.” A man inside called, his voice, unmistakably was Ling’s.   
  
Zilong wasted no time and slid the door open, his heart racing as he saw Ling’s familiar hair, now longer. Ling didn’t turn around and kept on stirring the firewood inside the kiln with a metal rod, boiling soup that smelled of fragrant garlic. Zilong slid the door shut as soon as possible due to the cold winds. He almost stepped on a straw mat, Ling’s bedding, and quickly retreated his foot. The entire hut was cramped and tiny, with only one room for everything. There was no furniture but only some boxes for Ling’s possessions. Zilong stood tiptoe and quickly removed his boots, placing them against the door.   
  
“Ling?” Zilong called and his friend finally turned around. Ling looked almost the same except for his long, disheveled hair. His skin was pale as always and white like porcelain, especially during cold months. He seemed to have gained a little weight.   
  
“I know you’re coming. Asking around town about me? You wouldn't pass as an assassin.” Ling smiled.   
  
“I tried.”  
  
“Try harder next time,” Ling looked at him annoyed, and pointed to an empty spot by the corner. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I’m not letting you out with this weather, you will stay the night.”   
  
“Are you… alright?” Zilong wasted no time and asked, removing his snow-covered garments and folding it at the very corner of the house, away from the place where Ling slept.   
  
“Ah, you must have heard. No, I’m not sick. Of course, I’m telling that to keep people away.”  
  
Zilong sighed in relief, and his cheeks slightly flushed realizing how easy for him to fall into Ling’s trick. It should have been obvious. “That’s not the only reason I wanted to check up on you.”  
  
“I’m fine, Zilong. I have enough food to last this winter, and I have more money than you could make in your entire life.” Ling stirred the soup and dipped the ladle into the pot. “Here,” he handed Zilong a bowl and chopsticks, who graciously accepted. “I have gold under this house, under that shrine you passed on the way here, and also have a good sum deposited in the bank in Xiamen that you can claim.”  
  
“Why are you telling me this? You know I never cared about money.” Zilong frowned as he took his first taste of the noodles. Ah, fish with spring onions. Delicious. “This is good,” he raised his bowl to Ling.   
  
“When I die, everything is yours.”  
  
“What are you, my grandfather?” Zilong chuckled and smiled at Ling, who remained somber.   
  
“You know what I’m talking about, Zilong. You came here to check up on me, might as well remind you about the truth.” Ling washed the food down his throat with wine. He poured some for Zilong as well.   
  
“I assume you earned this money from your dirty work, I don’t want any of that.”  
  
“Think of how many poor families you can help with that money, Zilong. How many sick children would need medicine? Give it away if you like. I know you’re that kind of guy.”  
  
Can’t argue with that logic, Zilong told himself. “Sure. I’ll take it in sixty years when you die old and gray, then that sum would have grown due to interest. I know how banking works.”  
  
Ling emptied his cup, consuming all his wine in one sip. “I’ve made too many enemies, and I don’t have much time left.”  
  
A long silence followed. Knowing Ling, there’s no use in arguing against his pessimistic outlook. After all, Zilong knew nothing about the underworld of Cadia Riverlands, living all his life in innocence above in the clouds. But one thing that Zilong had always believed in, was that the truth of the world would always be between two different perspectives. A bright future or death? Neither Ling nor him could speak in absolutes.   
  
"Ling, can we stay sober tonight? Please.” Zilong stopped Ling from pouring another bottle of wine into his cup. They had emptied a whole bottle together and his friend’s skin was already a bit flushed.   
  
“Fine,” Ling grumbled and Zilong took away the second bottle. “Afraid of getting drunk and embarrassing yourself?”  
  
“I don’t want to pee too much. It’s cold outside,” his response elicited a burst of short laughter from Ling. His bladder wasn’t the most important reason. With the aroma of soup earlier gone, the smell of alcohol permeated inside the room. Dozens of empty wine bottles were scattered close to Ling, and the amount could easily be good for months. There were so many dark circles under the man’s eyes, and the fire and passion were gone. “We rarely talk. I just want both of us to have a clear mind,” he added. Zilong stared at his cup. “It’s funny, do you remember the last time we drank together?”  
  
“We never-” Ling stopped and let out a genuine laugh. “Of course. Baxia’s precious rice wine. Of all the bottles we could have stolen, we picked the most expensive one.”  
  
“He was so pissed,” Zilong laughed, remembering the mischief of their childhood days and the punishments they endured afterward.   
  
As much as Ling had ambitions to be the heir of the Dragon, he was also petty and bored a lot of times. They talked about those silly and innocent moments - the time they made fake giant footprints scattered all over the Altar, and put bags of flour on top of the doors, and all the times they sneaked inside the women’s dormitory, filled with curiosity on the opposite sex.   
  
Back then, they didn’t truly understand why the two sexes were kept separate. After all, women were people just like them, just smaller, with breasts and higher-pitched voices. They’re also very pretty, making Zilong blush a lot of times. He vividly remembered the two girls that gave him wild and embarrassing dreams. Ling never showed any kind of attraction, more interested in dueling the girls to prove he’s better than all apprentices. It took a lot of courage for Zilong to ask Baxia about women, and the older man drank an entire bottle of wine before he explained sex and pregnancy to two red-faced pre-teens.   
  
Without alcohol to sip or noodles to eat, all that was left was warming oneself beside the fire. Ling wouldn’t reveal the details of his life outside the altar but asked about Zilong, who gave updates about his travels and the responsibilities of being an older brother. “Have you been to Moniyan?” Ling cocked his head to the side, dazed as he looked at the embers. “I heard they make great cities made of stone and marbles. They say that a queen rules the north, and she has the power to freeze an entire sea.”  
  
“I heard that Moniyan is war-torn, constantly fighting demons knocking on their cities.” Zilong leaned back and enjoyed the warmth, curling his bare toes towards the fire.  
  
“The Great Dragon always says that the world is terrible outside the Cadia Riverlands.” Ling crawled to the space close to Zilong and laid on the straw mat, preparing to sleep. While both of them had been spoiled by feather-filled cushions and pillows in the altar, years of hardships taught them to find comfort in anything. A shared blanket and folded clothes for pillows were everything they needed. There wasn’t much space and as a courtesy, Ling took the side closer to the door, keeping his guest near the fire. “Do you believe him? Do you believe that there’s nothing out there but suffering?” Ling asked as he curled on the floor, flames dancing in his eyes.   
  
“I’d say yes if you asked me years ago, now I don’t know,” Zilong admitted, mesmerized by the dimming embers before him. Yu Zhong, the Black Fierce Dragon, had shaken his beliefs, as the man questioned the Great Dragon’s stubborn rule to isolate their continent from the rest of the world. While he loved his master like a father, it was difficult to accept the doubts growing in his mind. “When we achieve peace, how about we see the world together, Ling? We can cross the western sea, see what’s out there. Not soon, but surely one day we can, right?” He gave his friend a warm smile. Whenever he imagined himself seeing the world, he had always pictured Ling beside him.   
  
“You think I have a future?” Ling asked lazily, curled on the floor and looking impassive.   
  
“Absolutely,” Zilong assured him. “I’m here to help you.” He untied his ponytail and settled beside Ling. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about both of them sleeping side by side, but there were new, different, emotions that stirred inside him when they’re close like this. So close, and face to face. As they shared a blanket, it just felt a lot warmer and comfortable. But instead of drowsiness, Zilong could feel his spirit rise, heart beating faster. Maybe he’s grateful for another moment but also concerned about Ling’s loneliness. Or maybe because he found Ling beautiful against the soft, warm glow of the fire.   
  
“You’re too nice. After all these years, knowing what I’ve done, why?” Even if Ling tried to keep a neutral expression, it wasn’t difficult to see the hints of pain and guilt in his eyes.   
  
“I’m afraid I don’t have an intellectual justification. I just want to and I believe in you. I’m your friend, am I not?” He told Ling kindly, smiling. Friends didn’t feel enough, Ling was special for a reason he couldn’t quite describe.   
  
“I’m a rotten man.”  
  
“And I’m an idiot.”  
  
“But you have a good heart,” Ling reached out to jab a finger to Zilong’s chest, and the simple touch quickened his pulse. Ling smiled slightly then his expression shifted, with a tense jaw and gaze focused on the tiny spot on their bedding. Then he locked his eyes on Zilong again. “And I hurt you... I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked.   
  
“It’s alright, I’ve forgiven you a long time ago.” At that moment, Ling just looked so vulnerable, without a trace of the proud and ruthless warrior he once was. Zilong reached out to touch Ling’s face and gently caress his cheek. He wanted that apology when they were children until it didn’t matter anymore. But hearing it now from Ling made him happy. It’s undeniable proof that there was still kindness in Ling - maybe it was just frozen underneath cold snow, and just needed more warmth to thaw. “I’m just glad we can talk like this. Just… don’t leave me again in the morning.” He teased.   
  
Ling shook his head. “I won’t. I don’t have anywhere or anyone to go to,” he whispered.   
  
“I’m here,” Zilong looked at Ling fondly and gathered him in his arms. Their noses were almost touching, and he could feel the warmth of Ling’s skin despite the fabric of their clothes. “I’m the first person you’re going to see when you wake up, and in the next mornings it’ll be the same.”  
  
The distance between them was gone as Ling’s hand found the back of Zilong’s neck and pulled him closer and closer, making Zilong close his eyes. He waited, then felt soft, warm lips pressed on his own. He froze with the sudden, new sensation spreading from his lips and throughout his body. It ended too fast as Ling broke away, breathing hard, eyes wide opened. Zilong blinked, mirroring Ling’s stunned expression, taking notice of the elevated pace of his heartbeat. What were they doing?  
  
It felt so good and it wasn’t enough. Zilong wanted more. He seized Ling’s lips, adjusting to a different angle to feel him better. It felt amazing when they moved their mouths and tasted each other, especially when Ling made lovely noises from the back of his throat. Ling craved contact, sliding his hand from Zilong’s nape, down to the pulse in his neck, and to the exposed skin just above his collarbone. Little by little Zilong parted his mouth, trying to discover new ways to enjoy Ling who reciprocated. When their tongues brushed against each other, Zilong pulled back to breathe and just took a good look at Ling - flushed face and red lips, eyes filled with desire. Ling pressed forward and continued, causing Zilong to roll on his back. With Ling’s body on him, their lips locked together, it just felt more pleasurable, with pressure building from the nether regions of his body.  
  
“Wait-” Zilong pushed back Ling a little.  
  
Ling hovered above him with a perplexed look, and also with a hint of embarrassment. “Is there something wrong?”   
  
“No…” Zilong averted his eyes, unsure of what words to use. Every sentence he thought of seemed awkward, especially with the sensations all over his body. “Should we- I mean, should we take our clothes off?” He took a sharp intake of breath after the question, a little anxious if he said the right thing. They were doing what lovers do, and he knew that the proper way to do it was to be naked. Maybe it would feel better that way. The heat was rising every second, with the winter cold all gone. But what if Ling was offended? Or made uncomfortable? “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he said quietly after. What was he thinking?   
  
“I think we should,” Ling said gently and nodded, looking flushed. He sat up and began untying his robe. “I apologize Zilong, it’s just that-” his eyes moved back and forth to the floor, and Zilong “- it’s the first time I’m doing anything like this.”   
  
“I don’t know what I’m doing either,” Zilong laughed softly, pulling his tunic up. Seeing Ling stammer and unsure of what to do was adorable. He was the same, but the mystery of what to come made it more exciting. It was amazing - discovering where and how to touch and to be touched, and what felt good. In his twenty-two years of living, he never thought he needed intimacy, never looking for it nor accepting offers from others. Now he’s with Ling, all those years he longed for no one finally made sense. This was just the right time and the right person.   


* * *

  
When Zilong opened his eyes after a long, blissful dream, he saw no one but a pile of folded clothes against the sunlight. Panicking, he sat up and quickly looked back - Ling was just by the fire, heaping coal with a tong, already dressed. The soup inside the cooking pot wasn’t boiling yet.   
  
“You thought I’d be gone?” Ling said, in a teasing manner.   
  
Zilong massaged his temple, heat rising in his cheeks as his bare body shivered against the cold, morning air. He quietly picked up his clothes on the bedding, his thoughts wandering on everything that had happened the night before. It was unbelievable. “Good morning, Ling.”  
  
“Good morning. Slept well?” Ling asked nonchalantly as he fanned the flames.   
  
They bared their souls to each other last night, but why did it feel so odd? Without the passion and the heat in the dark, the morning just felt so new between them. So quiet, except for the crackling flames and the chirping of the birds. Zilong hesitated a lot of times before he broke the silence. “What are you cooking?”   
  
“Porridge.” Ling turned around and replied flatly. Their eyes met and Ling blushed slightly, returning his focus on the food.   
  
So awkward. Zilong took a deep breath and stood up, just to stretch his legs and arms. Something was quite different in the house. The bottles were gone, presumably inside that new sack. Ling held the final bottle of wine last night and poured the contents on the fire.   
  
“You’re gonna burn your own house?” Zilong quickly pulled Ling back as the flames grew in size. He checked if Ling’s clothes or his hair was singed.   
  
Ling didn’t reply and just watched the flames. “Hey, Zilong.”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“I’ve thought a lot about it. About us.”   
  
He sat beside Ling and looked at him intently, feeling a little anxious about what the man had to say. “You can tell me anything.”  
  
Ling’s eyes were downcast. “I think… I don’t think we should… I mean we shouldn’t go further...” He fiddled with the handle of his ladle. “It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it-” His face went red again, and the lump inside Zilong’s throat moved. Another silence followed, almost unbearable as they stared wide-eyed at each other. “I have a lot to work on myself, I think I’m not ready to go further with what’s between us. You know, what I mean.”   
  
“I understand,” Zilong said kindly. He wasn’t sure if he was ready either. It was tempting to show affection, but maybe they needed some kind of distance first. “ But I meant what I said last night. I’ll always be here for you.”  
  
“I want to be a better man for you,” Ling said, and unlike yesterday, life seemed to have returned to his eyes. “I’m not going to run anymore.”  
  
Zilong smiled and laid his hand on top of Ling’s, grasping it gently. No need to rush. Let the seasons of life come and go. It’s the winter - the time to sleep and keep each other warm. When spring comes, the flowers will bloom again with fresh morning dew, and under the bright skies, the finches will fly again.   


* * *

//Fin

**Author's Note:**

> This was the pairing that won when I made a Valentine couple poll and I'm grateful that people voted for it in Reddit. I'm filled with a lot of emotions writing this. If you liked the work please comment to let me know! And be sure to recommend this to other fans of their relationship.


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